


Lost Little Lamb

by Avdal



Series: Touch of Darkness [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Come Marking, Come Shot, Comeplay, Demon Sex, Demons, F/M, Gods I love that tag, Gratuitous Smut, Knife Play, Object Insertion, On Hiatus, Oral Sex, Penis Size, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possibly Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Tags Are Hard, Vaginal Sex, but not as hard as demon kylo lol, canon huge dong, giant dongs, giddyup kiddos, huge demon dongs, kinda maybe, kylo ren and his big ol dick, lets do this, like when rey sees that big ol dick she may be into it, or terrified for her hooha, so lets get on with it, tagging this just gets stranger and stranger for me, tagging ultrasmut is always a strange and existential business, thats always a possibility
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-03-02 14:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avdal/pseuds/Avdal
Summary: A month ago Rey had dreamed about him.Rey had never seen any man like him, if he was a man at all. Tall, dark, and with eyes that would haunt her long after she had woken up. She never saw the rest of his face, but his eyes would linger with her no matter how she tried to forget them. He wanted something from her. He wanted her.She dreamed of him again night after night. He would reach out to her, beckoning. Come into the woods. Come find me.





	1. A Chance Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags, kiddos. Proceed at your own risk (though ch1's pretty tame TBH)

A month ago Rey had dreamed about him.

 

Rey had never seen any man like him, if he was a man at all. Tall, dark, and with eyes that would haunt her long after she had woken up. She never saw the rest of his face, but his eyes would linger with her no matter how she tried to forget them.

 

Two weeks ago her betrothed had been murdered.

 

He had been found out in the woods. She didn’t know why he had been there. Couldn’t imagine. It was too dangerous to go alone and Hux was many things but foolish was not among them.

 

The villagers wouldn’t let her see his body. Rey dreamed of _him_ again that night.

 

Then again night after night. Tall, dark, and with skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight. He would reach out to her, beckoning. Come into the woods. Come find me.

 

She wouldn’t. She _couldn’t_.

 

She woke up.

 

*

 

Unkar’s Inn was unusually busy.

 

A trade caravan had come through and stopped for the night. They were the first the village had gotten since winter had started to thaw and both the traders and villagers alike were in full celebration. Music played, smoke hung in the air, and Rey’s feet ached from having to race back and forth between tables to keep up with all the drink orders.

 

“How’s BeBe?” Rose asks as they both step behind the counter to fill up another serving tray with ale. “He’s still fussing?”

 

Rose can only carry six drinks on the tray but Rey aims for ambition with eight. Her arms strain as she picks it up, mindful not to let any spill and slosh on her black mourning dress.

 

“I’ve never seen him like this, not even when he was a puppy. I gave him a ham bone to gnaw on but I could hear him whining through the basement door. Plutt will have a fit if he knows I brought him to work.”

 

Rey shouldn’t be working at all. She’s in _mourning_ , at least officially. As much as she hadn’t wanted to be wedded to Hux Rey knows she would ave been far better off him passing with her as his widow, not simply his betrothed. As his betrothed she gets nothing but sympathetic looks and the occasional ‘chin up, give ‘em a smile, and don’t let the drinks spill’ from Plutt.

 

“Let’s pass these out then I’ll go and check on him,” Rose offers. “Maybe he ate something funny and his tummy hurts him?”

 

She and Rey split up, Rose taking the tables on the raised balcony above them and Rey handling the rowdier crowd at the back of the inn. BeBe was Rey’s dog and, to be honest, her best friend next to Rose. He was a half Corgi, half something unknown and they had found each other on Rey’s first day in the village all those years ago. BeBe was getting on in his years, his once bright fox orange coat now boasting almost as much silver as gold, and if something was to happen to happen to him she’d be absolutely beyond herself.

 

“You should be at home resting and recovering.”

 

Finn, the Inn’s guard, takes her tray from her for the four steps she has to go down to reach the lower level patrons. Rey tries to give him a reassuring smile. He means well, but it would be too hard to explain to him that rest is the last thing she needs. 

 

“Expecting trouble tonight?” she asks him.

 

He holds the tray for her as she picks up four mugs, two in each hand, and slides them across the long table to a group of traders too enmeshed in their poker game to remember to give her a tip. They signal for another round after this one and they’re bloody well going to have to wait a while for it.

 

“Hope for the best, expect the worst. Some of these newcomers, though… I don’t like them. Up on the second floor there’s this creepy guy. Pale as all sin, sitting by himself. I’ve been keeping an extra close eye on Rose since he’s in her section, but all night long he’s been nursing just one mug of ale. Wouldn’t be surprised if Plutt throws him out unless his money belt loosens up a little.”

 

Rey looks up at the bottom of the wooden platform making up the second level. Just shadows and cobwebs and candlelight peeping through, but an odd weight settles deep in her gut. A feeling of foreboding. A sixth sense.

 

“Rey? You alright?”

 

She blinks. Oh. Right. She quickly takes the remaining four mugs and starts walking around, dropping them off. Finn follows her, doing more than his duty of picking up a few of the empty tankards along their way.

 

“Sorry,” she says after she’s finished her round. “I haven't been sleeping well.”

 

“Of course not. First Hux and then- well Rose said that BeBe’s been barking up a storm. You think he misses him, too?”

 

Rey doesn’t know where Finn got the notion that either she or her dog were particularly fond of the uptight Lord who was looming to make her his Lady. Tolerant was a better term, perhaps, though that was more than she could say for how Hux had felt about her longtime pet.

 

A round of commotion turns their attention to the back again. It seems like the poker game has turned a little less than friendly. With a nod Finn hands her the tray and heads back there to make his presence known.

 

Rey pauses before filling up the next round of waiting mugs. That deep feeling in her stomach twists, making her hands unsteady. Again she looks up at the higher floor. From this angle she can see the top of Rose’s head bobbing about, but nothing of the patrons that are sitting down.

 

Another memory of her dreams flashes through her. That faceless man… What if he-

 

No. Don’t be silly. It’s all in her mind. All the worries of these last few weeks must be getting to her.

 

BeBe starts to bark again, this time so loud a few of the closer patrons look over at the door. Rey shakes her head to collect her herself. She heads back to try and soothe both her canine friend and her own oddly jumping nerves.

 

*

 

“Five gold. _Five whole gold pieces_. Almost a whole week’s wages. Can you believe it?”

 

Rose shows her the coins carefully, keeping her voice as low as she can while still being heard in the noisy room.

 

Rey gapes before she catches herself. Her friend’s good fortune isn’t met without a tiny pinch of envy on Rey’s part. She’s happy for Rose, of course, but perhaps she can convince her to switch stations for a few turns so that she can get her own chance at the high tippers?

 

“Who was it?” she asks. “The head merchant? Let me give him just one drink, oh please Rose. Then you can have him right back. What’s he drinking? I’ll make it for him myself.”

 

Rose smiles then and presses the gold into Rey’s hand.

 

“These aren’t _my_ tips, Rey. They’re for you.”

 

Rey frowns, then quickly shakes her head. She can’t accept charity, no matter how well meaning it is.

 

“Rose-”

 

“No, Rey, I mean I was given them to give to _you_. Not from one of the merchants either. Or at least I don’t think he is. There's this kind of strange, odd looking man who was with them. I think he was some sort of paying passenger traveling with them. He doesn’t seem to have any friends with him, and he’s barely said a word to me, but he’s been watching you all night long.”

 

Immediately that feeling comes back triple-fold. A sudden sense of panic that grips Rey so sharply she takes a step back, her hand still link with Rose who frowns at her now.

 

“Rey? Are you alright? You’ve gone all pale.”

 

Gods, she’s being ridiculous, isn't she? What in the world is wrong with her? Rey’s heard of people having attacks of the nerves before, but it was usually caused by being in a crowd or some great new commotion. Granted tonight was both, but the liveliness of the Inn was still something Rey was well used to.

 

“What do you mean he gave you them for me?” she asks. “The coins? He doesn’t even know me.”

 

Rose flips her hand palm-up and curls her fingers around the coins before pulling back.

 

“Maybe he heard of your recent tragedy? Or perhaps he’s simply noticed you’re all in black and still having to work through your mourning months? I don’t know. Like I said he doesn’t really talk much. _Or_ drink much, but he asked for you to share a bottle of wine with him. That’s what this gold is for.”

 

Rose has to lean in closer and closer to be heard for the last part of that as she drops her voice lower still. Even before Rey’s engagement it would have been unlikely that she’d sit down with a patron and share a drink. Rose neither. Some of the other serving girls might to sweeten their tips, but now that Rey was in her obvious position it was an almost shockingly rude proposition.

 

“Rose, I’m in _mourning_.”

 

The coins fit so well in her hand. She needs them badly, but it’s too high of a price to pay for just a simple conversation.

 

A too-long neglected Bebe starts to howl. Rey frowns down at her palm before shaking her head and extending her hand back to Rey.

 

“Tell him no. I have to look after Bebe. I have to get back to work. And tell him to stop watching me, whoever the hell he is.”

 

Behind them Plutt shouts, his voice bellowing over both the music and the sounds of Bebe’s whining. He threatens to turn ‘that rat mutt’ into tomorrow’s stew if someone doesn’t shut him up.

 

Rose pushes Rey’s hand back to her.

 

“I’ll take care of Bebe. You take this and go up. Just a drink. You need the money and he said he’ll pay twice more if you actually show up. Finn will be watching close. Now _go_. Please. Do it for me so I don’t have to worry about you so much.”

 

Rose leaves, hurrying out of sight to see what’s keeping Bebe in such a state. Rey swallows, her throat dry and a fluttering now suffusing through her veins. She looks up again to where she knows the stranger must be. Keep the money. Bring him his drink. Talk to him, but only if you must.

 

Rey pockets the gold and sets out a bottle and two glasses. As she makes her way up the stares every step feels heavier than the last.

 

*

 

“Don’t. Leave it.”

 

The Stranger, for he never gave her his name, had been sitting in the darkest and farthest corner of the upstairs loft. He had blown his table’s candles out, but brushes Rey’s hand aside as she move to light them again.

 

The second his skin touches her own Rey gasps. She was on pins and needles the whole short minute she’s been here, but something almost electric shoots through her at the brief touch. Her knees buckle, and the Stranger pulls back to make room for her to sit on the padded bench next to him.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks.

 

His voice is deep. Too deep, almost. The sound fo it vibrates through the air, making every hair on Rey’s head feel as if its standing on end.

 

“Wou- You- You-”

 

Rey’s a babbling fool. She shakes her head and reaches out for the wine bottle. Best to get this over with. Perhaps she really is having an attack of the nerves?

 

“Allow me.”

 

The Stranger takes the bottle from her, and again his fingers graze the tips of her own. The fluttering in her stomach intensifies and, to Rey’s speechless horror, the feeling starts to drift a little _lower_ down.

 

“You shouldn't’ be working,” the man tells her. “Not after having suffered a loss.”

 

He fills two glasses and hands her one. Rey refuses to reach for it but, when he sets it down in front of her, she picks it up with an unsteady hand.

 

“I- I have no choice. Money was so hard to come by this winter. I need to make up for lost wages after the storms closed down the roads for two months.”

 

Why she’s bothering telling the mysterious patron this Re has no idea. Or, perhaps she does. Perhaps she’s simply distracting herself with conversation to avoid the Stranger’s gaze. He’s watching her with a quiet intensity, and Rey’s not used to having a man look at her like that. Dealing with lust and lechery is an unfortunate hazard of her work, but the way this Stranger stares… she doesn’t know how to describe it, let alone understand it.

 

“Perhaps my coin will help you then,” he answers.

 

Rey looks up to meet his gaze for just a second. His eyes are dark, painting a bold contrast with his pale skin. Other than a long, odd scar running down his face Rey would almost say he’s perhaps handsome. Perhaps.

 

“Thank you for that,” she answers reflexively. “And thank you for the wine. But, if you please, I need to get back to my station now.”

 

She rises to go and his hand closes around her wrist. For a moment Rey feels stunned. Something shoots through her so fast that she again slumps back, nearly collapsing into the seat.

 

“Please. Stay a moment longer. Have another glass with me. Let me make up for your lost time.”

 

He doesn’t let go of her wrist but his other hand slides across the table, reaching out and placing another stack of gold coins in front of her.

 

Out of the corner of Rey’s eye she sees Finn start to move closer. She must look as panicked as she feels, but she shakes her head at him. The Stranger lets her pull her hand back to take the coin and Finn backs away but not very far.

 

“What’s your name?” she manages to say. 

 

Her head feels like its swimming in circles. If Rey hadn’t brought the bottle over herself she might have sworn that the Stranger had drugged it.

 

“You’ve asked me that before.”

 

He pours another glass for her before sipping at his own first.

 

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

 

“What’s yours then? Perhaps if you tell em yours I’ll return the favor with mine.”

 

She shakes her head and sets the glass down. It’s still half full but, with as foggy as she’s feeling, she’s certainly had more than enough.

 

Another coin slides across the table. Eleven now in total, and this last one for something he could have easily found out from Plutt for a few pennies.

 

“Rey,” she finally answers. “Rey Niima.”

 

The Stranger’s eyebrows raise. Rey’s head starts to clear again, but the heat in her remains in place.

 

“Niima? Niima as in this town? Was that what you were born with, or perhaps it was given to you when you came here?”

 

Now that draws her attention back to him full-force. In this day and age it was hardly unusual to be a wanderer, but how could he possibly know that part of her past?

 

“Your then. Do hurry. I think I’ve had plenty of wine.”

 

She straightens and the Stranger tips his head to the side to regard her. For a moment, just a fleeting second, Rey almost thinks that his skin is glowing. No, not glowing, but changing. Almost as if there were vines moving across his skin.

 

Rey blinks and the effect is gone. Truly just a trick of her own mind then.

 

“Rey?” Finn asks.

 

He was standing next to them now. Rey hadn’t noticed that he’d moved. Or- or- or maybe she didn’t remember it? It was as if the last few seconds had completely alluded her.

 

“Your dog is barking,” the Stranger says. “Go and attend to him. He must mean a great deal to you, I’m sure.”

 

It’s such an odd thing to say. Finn steps closer, placing a protective hand on her shoulder to help her rise. Then he steps between them, lightly pushing Rey behind him.

 

The Stranger regards them both before reaching into his pocket and setting down another gold coin.

 

“For the drinks,” he says.

 

He turns to leave without another word. Rey and Finn exchange a look.

 

“Did he-”

 

“No. He just wanted to… I don’t know what eh wanted. He was strange. Can you hear Bebe? Rose is with him and I don’t hear a thing.”

 

Around them the merriment of the tavern continues on. Finn shakes his head and Rey shrugs, resolving to try and forget the whole strange interlude. The eleven gold coins now weighting down her pocket should help a lot to lighten the burden on her mind.

 

She hurries back downstairs to attend to her dog before Plutt tries to make good on his earlier threat.

 

*

 

It’s not until the very darkest hours past midnight that Rey finally makes it home.

 

She was so exhausted that she only lightly washed up to get the smell of smoke off of her before collapsing into bed. Bebe curls up by her feet, now sleeping calmly after spending all day and all night acting like such a fool.

 

To think that, in just a few months time, Rey would have be sharing a bed with Hux and not her four legged companion. It was a rather chilling thought, but the hand that caresses her face is plenty warm. 

 

She blinks up at the Stranger sleepily. By all and every account Rey should be screaming her head off now. Letting every neighbor around her know that a man has broken into her home. No, into her _bedroom_.

 

Rey does none of that, though. Now she feels too weightless, too warm. The Stranger smiles down at her and she returns it, the fluttering she had felt before coming back but only in the most pleasant of ways. Heat suffuses through every part of her, starting with her cheek where his touch lingers.

 

“Rey. Do you want to know what your real name is?”

 

His voice sounds like an echo even though he’s so close. So very close. The Stranger leans in, kneeling now next to her. His hair fans around their faces like a curtain, keeping her locked tight in his hungry gaze.

 

“I’d rather know yours,” she whispers.

 

He laughs. His breath is warm and she wets her lips, suddenly feeling no shame in how her body is starting to respond to the Stranger’s closeness. Her nipples stiffen, forming sharp peaks against the thin cotton of her sleeping shift. The Stranger’s gaze never leaves her eyes as he wraps a warm palm over one of her breasts and caresses the tip with his thumb.

 

Then his touch is gone. He slides back, disappearing into the shadowy pools of the night.

 

Rey wakes with a moan.

 

Then a groan.

 

She was… she was having one of _those_ dreams, wasn’t she? How shameful. And about that stranger from the Inn, no less. 

 

Gods, lucky she was alone and no one was around to see her burning cheeks and disheveled state.

 

Bebe isn’t by her feet. Rey frowns, sitting up and trying to ignore the residuals of lust still strumming through her body. Bebe always sleeps with her. It would be very strange for him-

 

The window is open. Rey only notices it now just as her inner heat cools down and she realizes the room is actually rather freezing.

 

She would never leave the window open at night. Not here where it was hardly safe even during broad daylight. Had she been robbed then? Robbed of what? She has nothing fit to take.

 

“Bebe?”

 

She calls for him, hoping to hear his happy little barks come from the other room. Nothing but silence.

 

A sick feeling of dread overwhelms her. Something is wrong. Something has to be. Could this still be a dream? That’s her only hope.

 

Rey pulls on her robe and shoes and grabs a knife from the kitchen before heading outside. She lives on the very edges of town and it’s all quiet at this time of night. The front gate to her small home is locked shut. The only other way in through the fence is an old opening at the back that’s been chained closed for as long as Rey’s lived her.

 

Except tonight it’s open, the chain neatly sliced clean through. She can see Bebe’s paw prints in the mud, along with the mark of a much larger boot. Their path leads right out from her home and into the dark woods.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short lead-in teaser chapter. I often ask for out fic requests (usually of the smut variety) and one of my most common is ‘a sequel to The Demon Within Me’. Well, this is a spiritual sequel. TDWM is a 1-shot and this one’s going to be 2-4 chapter smutty smutfest. Like really really smutty.  
> Basically this whole story is an excuse for me to write a loving homage to Demon! Kylo Ren’s totes Canon Huge Dong and how said bodypart’s gonna give Rey’s hoo-ha a run for it’s money. Giant demon dong, super graphic, haven’t written ultrasmut in a while, let’s fix that, read at your own risk, did I mention that this is pretty much just going to be shameless smut? Because it is. Probably with some plot because I don’t think I can not write it without any.
> 
> Anyhow, now that you know what to expect, I hope ya’ll that stick around enjoy this depraved fic! :)
> 
>  
> 
> And, as always, find me on tumblr at [ **lost-inthesunlight.tumblr.com**](https://lost-inthesunlight.tumblr.com/) and on twitter at [ **@Ava_Avdal**](https://twitter.com/Ava_Avdal) :)
> 
> Moodboard for this chapter? Got it right [ **HERE**](https://lost-inthesunlight.tumblr.com/post/184845508368/new-fic-from-me-lost-little-lamb-chapter-one)


	2. It's Our Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it’s been bloody well long enough since I posted chapter 1, aint it? An update most overdo indeed.
> 
> AND… I've decided to add “non-con” to the tags. It’s not really. I think you’ll see that in chapters 3 and 4. But there’s definitely some strong dub-con/non-con elements at foot here, starting with this chapter 2, and I know if I don’t have it there I’m going get torn a new one.
> 
> So, yeah, non-consenual sex, knife-play, and insertions. Read what it says on the tin before opening.
> 
> If you’re still here, enjoy!

_ Cold and dark and deep _

_ Buried in the moonlight _

_ Hidden in the dark of night _

_ Endless twisting paths _

_ Lost to those in sleep _

 

It was an old rhyme, and Rey couldn’t get it out of her head as she walked through the dark woods.

 

The story behind the verse was a wretched one. Two young children go out into the woods and become lost. Days later- Rey can’t remember how long, it’s been years since she’s least heard it- but they were eventually found. 

 

Hanging lifeless from a tree, their bodies swaying in the breeze.

 

She doesn’t know why she’s thinking about this now, of all times. Now when every step she takes is on dry, crackling leaves or deadened grass. Now when every gust of wind makes the moonlight seem to shimmer and come alive through the thick canopy above her.

 

She’s all alone out here, so far from the village that no one could help her.

 

Cold and dark and deep.

 

The rhyme won’t stop playing in her head. Go out into these woods at night and you’ll be lucky if all that you do is die.

 

With each step she takes forward, her heart seems to pound even harder. She needs to find Bebe, and then get the hell out of these damnable woods and back home again. Ideally before dawn when the village watchmen will have been sure to notice the gate had been opened.

 

A twig snaps but not from under her feet. Rey almost jumps, almost screams, but she holds herself together. Falls stalk-still and grips the knife. Her kitchen knife, of all the things she could have taken, but now that flimsy piece of dulled metal is the only thing that keeps her from bursting into tears.

 

Silence blooms, creeping and crawling across her senses. No one can be out here. The villagers don’t come out at night, and… and Rey was smart. She was a survivor. She’d know if she wasn’t alone out here.

 

Wouldn’t she?

 

A fresh tentative step and every part of her fully expects to be grabbed and ended by unseen shadows. Her softly booted footed sounds exceptionally loud against the pine needles she’s now walking on.

 

_ Cold and dark and deep _

_ Buried in the moonlight _

_ Hidden in the dark of night _

 

Another step. Then another. Rey’s grip slackens but the pace of her heartbeat stays the same.

 

She should be calling for Bebe, except she’s mute with fear. Each step is close to literal torture, and now on top of every other worry comes that she’s getting farther and farther from the village. Into the woods. A woods she hardly knows during the day, yet alone at night.

 

And still, through it all and every reason, Rey finds she absolutely can’t being herself to stop. She just keeps walking. Forcing herself deeper into the shadows, her feet drawing the rest of her forward as if compelled by some greater power.

 

When she realizes this, Rey finally hesitates. She looks back over her shoulder. Not a trace of the village lights. Has she really gone that far?

 

A breeze picks up, pushing at her shoulders and making all the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end.

 

Her head wicks forward with a snap, her heart jumping right along with it. Ahead there’s now a trail where before there had been nothing but darkened shadows. The path nearly seems to glow and her next step isn’t entirely her own.

 

_ Endless twisting paths _

_ Lost to those in sleep _

 

Rey knows what this is. She’s knows even though she shouldn't. It’s _him_ , isn’t it?

 

Something deep inside her twitches. An ache of loneliness; something she knows so well except this time its different. Every step now becomes both easier and harder as a voice longs to be heard.

 

The path becomes brighter, the light of it rising and falling with her own pulse. Truly she’s growing mad. This feeling… she’s _incomplete_. It hurts her. Stings so deeply she has no choice but to go forward.

 

And there he is, right in the center of a small, moonlit clearing. Bebe. 

 

Her little canine friend yips once, his short, stumpy tail wagging. Rey bounds forward, wanting so badly to just take him into her arms and turn and run. 

 

It’s Bebe that does the running. He yips again, sounding far too excited for either of their own good, and then off he goes, bounding away from her.

 

“Bebe!” she breaks her silence as she chases, “Bebe come back! I’m here! Don’t run!”

 

The little devil never did listen to her. Rey sprints now, slowed by her slippers and the knife and her own hesitancy. 

 

Her foot catches on something. It couldn’t be a branch, she was in a field, but she stumbles nonetheless, falling face-first toward the grass before-

 

Warm hands seize her. One around her waist, one around her mouth. Smothering her scream from piercing the air.

 

Then she’s thrown. Her back slams hard against something- a tree, no doubt- and stars bloom swirling. It stuns her for just a moment. The hand on her mouth holds her up and something is shoved rudely between her thighs.

 

His own leg.

 

The man from the tavern. Of course. Rey blinks up at him, the whole world seeming to spin as she sees his pale face. He’s holding her pinned, his chest flush to hers as he leans in. Breathing is hard and made harder when he whispers into her ear.

 

“Don’t scream.”

 

His voice. _Gods_.

 

The ache in her heart lifts, or maybe that’s just his thigh between her legs hiking her higher up the tree to bring their faces closer together.

 

The way he looks at her… His eyes glow, shining back the moonlight.

 

Then he jerks her head to the side, her mouth still covered, and he buries his face against her neck. 

 

He sucks in a breath. Rey whimpers, her traitorous body arching into him like a cat wanting to be stroked.

 

When he pulls back, Rey swears her neck feels wet.

 

“Don’t-” his voice is even deeper now, if that’s possible, “Don’t scream, little one. Please. It will greatly displease me and there’s no one around to hear you anyhow.”

 

His kiss swallows her whine. The feel of his too full lips running hungrily against hers is positively electric. Sensation shoots along her veins, that ache of absence in her heart twisting so hard that she gasps into her abductor’s mouth.

 

His tongue wastes no time joining in, twirling and swirling against her own. Rey’s whimper becomes a moan, a sudden flush of desire settling between her legs and making her intimately aware of every crease and seam of his pants.

 

When he pulls away, Rey follows him, her lips seeking to keep the contact strong with his own.

 

Then sense returns, her head snapping backwards only to slam itself against the tree she’s pinned against.

 

“W-what-”

 

“Kylo. Lord Kylo Ren, though you can call me whatever you please, little pet.”

 

Pet? He buries his face against her neck again and Rey shivers, her skin burning ice cold in the wake of his touch as he strokes her arms. 

 

“I’ve missed you.”

 

The words come out so muffled by her skin Rey isn’t quite sure she’s hearing him correctly. 

 

His next kiss is more frantic, or maybe that’s her own. Hands start to roam. His tangling in her hair and hers… hers are sliding along his back, feeling the muscles cording tight as he grinds himself against her aching center.

 

Then she locks both her hands tight around the handle of her kitchen knife and _pushes_. It takes effort to pierce through his shirt and skin, and even more to slip into muscle.

 

Kylo- her abductor- pulls away from her with an astonished gape. His movement actually sinks the knife between his shoulders deeper. 

 

“ _Rey_.”

 

The regret is immediate. Her hands drop from the knife and he catches them, turning her shaking palms over to regard them.

 

“I-”

 

She’s just stabbed him. He’d kissed her and she’d _stabbed_ him.

 

It had been an impulse. She didn’t-

 

“Why did you do that, Rey?”

 

His hand reaches up to caress her cheek. His other holds onto both her wrists, easily spanning them with his wide grip.

 

Her weapon is still lodged in his back. The man- if he is one- cocks his head to the side. His thumb swipes away at a tear that leaks out of her eyes as Rey stumbles out an answer.

 

“I- I didn’t mean to!” she blurts, voice pitching.

 

A dark eyebrow raises. His hand squeezes her wrists tighter.

 

“Try again.”

 

The hand on her cheek drifts to her trembling chin, turning her face from side to side.

 

“You attacked me.”

 

Her voice fades with each syllable, though as close as he is he must surely be able to hear her.

 

He blinks. She wriggles, trying to push weakly at his chest with her restrained palms.

 

“I didn’t. You fell and I caught you. That was nice of me, but this wasn’t nice of you.”

 

Doesn’t he feel that in his back? She stabbed him as deeply as she could, and his voice is still as smooth and low as ever.

 

“Rey.” He lets go of her and steps back, letting her cringe and recoil against the tree behind her. “If you run, I will chase you. You know that, don’t you?”

 

She nods tightly.

 

“Why?” she asks.

 

She’d started to sink, her knees growing weak, but he guides her up again with a soft touch at the bottom of her chin.

 

“Because I've been looking for you for such a long, long time. Now be a good little pet and pull it out.”

 

The hand drops and he waits. Expectant.

 

“What?”

 

Her eyes dart around the moonlit field. No Bebe and no clear route of escape. She feels him track the moments of her eyes.

 

“Pull out the knife you just stabbed me in the back with.”

 

She… didn’t mean to. The knife just kind of shoved itself into him. But he still doesn’t sound angry. Kurt, perhaps. 

 

Rey swallows. The moonlight shifts.

 

She tries to step to the side but Kylo stops her, his arm reach out to pin itself to the tree. It gives her no choice but to reach back around him, drawing herself almost into his embrace. 

 

“It… this will hurt,” she warns.

 

Kylo scoffs, the sound of it tickling right next to her ear.

 

“Yes. It did when you did it.”

 

After all.

 

It takes a profound greatness of inner strength to bring he hand up to the jutting hilt. She swallows again, her mouth feeling both too dry and too choked all at once.

 

Kylo watches her as she pulls it out. It doesn’t go easily, but then again it didn’t either going in. Rey has to yank on it, jerking at it in short, tight movements to separate metal from flesh.

 

Not a gasp or whine or wince. Kylo even pets her, stroking her face when her nerves rise up and she hesitates.

 

Then it finally comes free and he spins, catching her hand before she can drop it from the blade. He squeezes hard, pressing her palm almost painfully tight to the hilt.

 

It’s Rey’s turn to gasp, fear anew bubbling up in her as she meets his gaze.

 

“Please.”

 

She’s not one to beg, so this isn’t begging. It’s a plea.

 

“You don’t want me to hurt you,” he says. “You’re afraid I’m going to stab you just like you stabbed me.”

 

He draws her hand between them, bringing it up close to her face with the dangerous tip of it so near to her eye that Rey’s next tear falls down onto and runs down the blood-smeared length of the handle.

 

“I-”

 

“Lick it. Open your mouth and take it in.”

 

Rey blinks. The words he chooses are almost as bad as the order behind them.

 

She shakes her head. The tip of the blade presses to her cheek, indenting at her flesh and making her cringe into the cage of her captor’s arms until there’s nowhere further to go. 

 

“Rey,” Kylo’s voice has a nearly airy quality to it now, “you stabbed me. Taste the blood you have drawn.”

 

_How_ is he still standing? How is he not effected by this in the slightest way?

 

Rey opens her mouth slightly. The bloody blade is presented for her. 

 

And she balks.

 

“Please.”

 

Her captor’s eyes harden. She can sense his growing frustration with her. For a terrible moment she wonders if he isn’t going to _force_ her to do this- or something else- against her will.

 

Then he nods. He lifts the blade and she shivers, closing her eyes as he traces is along her face. He marks her with his blood like that, with what feels like swirling, scrawling spirals that flow across her cheeks, down the bridge of her nose, and finally to the full center of her bottom lip.

 

Rey holds still throughout it. A voice in the back of her head starts to whisper something to her, but she pushes it aside. This is easier to withstand with her eyes closed, but when the blade still she flutters them open again to face what’s next.

 

Kylo seems utterly enraptured with his handiwork. His eyes follow the lines he’s painted on her and his lips slowly curl up into a faint but profoundly menacing smile.

 

Rey’s heart beats harder in her chest, each pulse of blood through her body now ringing in her ears. As close as they are together, surely he must feel that too?

 

“Beautiful.”

 

His head dips lower, his breath ghosting over her wet lips. The night air seems to spin and oddly Rey is grateful for his arms so tight around her or she might not have been able to hold herself up anymore.

 

The words in her head again. That voice comes back.

 

Rey knows what he wants, what this _being_ in front of her wants. He holds himself so still, nearly kissing her but not quite, until Rey gives in first.

 

The moment she willingly presses her lips to his he growls, hauling her up into him. It may have been her initiation this time, but Kylo swiftly takes over, deepening the passion of their kiss as one of his hands claws into her hair and pulls hr head back to better give him access.

 

Rey can taste him then. Taste his blood that had been painted over her lips. His tongue rolls over her own, drawing her even deeper under his spell.

 

Heat pools low and needy in her body, but it’s not until that moment that Rey realizes she had wrapped her legs around his hips and, for lack of a better term, was grinding her aching center against him.

 

Kylo laughs and the world spins harder. Rey can hardly even feel the rough sting of the bark pressed against her back anymore. Every sense of hers is becoming more focused, her attention compelled to him and him alone.

 

When her abductor’s hand starts to slide between her legs Rey isn’t sure if she’s still alive.

 

“Are you wet for me?” 

 

He whispers it right into her ear. Rey buries her face against his shoulder. 

 

His fingers dive under her clothing and she bites him hard at the first touch. All she’s rewarded with is a mouthful of his jacket and a low, deep rumble of a laugh as he strokes her. Any friction that she feels comes from the roughness of his fingers, not her own body.

 

Kylo tsks, his nos nuzzling hr temple.

 

“How shameful. Shouldn’t you be in mourning?”

 

“Oh _gods_.”

 

His thumb finds her clit and Rey can’t even remember what her late finance's name was anymore. She slumps then, all the fight leaving her body as she lets him support her.

 

He rubs her clit in circles, playing with the nub and alternating firm and feather-light touches. Then he withdraws and Rey whines, her hands weakly clawing at his back.

 

“Patience, little pet. Now kick you shoes off for me.” 

 

His hand starts to slide her clothes from her. It takes Rey a few thin, sharp breaths before she can command her legs to obey him. Her skirts are unceremoniously wedded up around her waist, and then his hand strokes her ass before circle back and cupping her aching pussy.

 

“Wider,” he orders.

 

Rey’s whimper remains caught in her throat, but she tries to nod. Now that she’s naked from the waist down she can spread her thighs a little further, giving him better access to keep doing that lovely, haunting thing he was doing.

 

A sudden and almost cruel pinch to her clit brings out he sharp cry she’d been trying to keep down. The hand leaves her and Rey rolls her head back to look up at him. 

 

“Kylo.”

 

Something about his name-

 

“You shouldn't’ have stabbed me, Rey.”

 

She blinks. There’s not enough blood going to her head to make sense of his words.

 

Then something cold traces her cheek and Rey’s mind jolts back into awareness. 

 

“Kylo!” 

 

It’s a dagger. Not the simple kitchen knife she’d used against him, that was long discarded to the forest leaves, but rather it must be her captor’s own. He traces the edge of it along her face, following the same lines of his blood that he’d painted her with only minutes before.

 

“W-what-”

 

“Shhhh, little pet. Don’t move.”

 

Unlike her knife, the blade of this one is long and razor sharp. From the angle Rey can only see the handle. Metal also, thick and engraved with rounded patterns.

 

Truly the blade of a hunter, and Rey forces herself to meet his eyes as the tip of it comes to rest at her throat.

 

“Beautiful,” he repeats. “You’ve drawn my blood, I think it’s only fair that now I draw yours.”

 

Gods she should fight. Or beg. Or plead or try to _reason_. 

 

Rey finds she can’t do any of those, however. She stays stone-still, staring into her captor’s dark eyes as the mists of the forest seem to close around until it’s just the two of them out here in the night.

 

Then the blade lifts from her skin. Kylo leans forward, Rey’s head tipping backwards to counterbalance.

 

“Kiss me,” he orders.

 

She swallows. She… wants to. Rey doesn’t know why sh wants to, but she does.

 

This kiss is messy and needy. Frightened as she is, Rey’s body is still singing with unrequited desire. Her tongue tangles with his, trying to work him like he’d worked her. He groans into her mouth. She must not be doing as badly at this as she was afraid she was.

 

Then those nimble fingers of his go back between her shaking thighs and Rey all but purrs. Her kiss becomes needier as he finds her clit again, working her little nub into a full, twitching ache in no time. 

 

He swallows her shaky cry as a finger pushes inside her. Long and thick, so much better than when she would touch herself. A second finger tries to push in and Rey shivers, her body too tight and unused for the intrusion not to sting a little.

 

Kylo pulls away from her lips then and looks down. How he can see anything in the darkness is a mystery Rey. 

 

“Are you a virgin?”

 

Rey’s eyes falls to half-lidded and there’s a ringing in her ears. She nods, words beyond cries and pleas too hard for her.

 

Kylo smiles. The fingers withdraw, leaving Rey feeling shockingly empty.

 

“Then is going to hurt. You draw my blood, Rey, and I draw yours.”

 

Before she has time to think, panic, or even to _breathe_ , something cold and hard pushes at her entrance, taking the place where his fingers just were.

 

“Ah!”

 

Her cry is cut short at a sharp twist of his wrist, the object pushing inside her. It’s the handle of his dagger, she dimly realizes. He must be holding it by the blade.

 

“K-K-”

 

A whole body shudder grips her. The metal of it is cold, a stark contrast against the part of her that’s so very hot. 

 

Kylo shushes her, giving a quick kiss to her now sweaty forehead as his hand jerks again, pushing in another inch of the hilt into her.

 

It was _big_. She’d seen it before, when he had pressed the dagger to her face. The carved handle was thick enough that even in his big hands his fingers wouldn’t touch around it.

 

Rey whines, her inner parts flexing spastically as they are forced to yield to another inch of cold, hard metal.

 

“Does it hurt?” Kylo asks.

 

She nods, tears starting to flow from her tightly clench lids only to be immediately kissed away.

 

“I’m sorry for that, Rey. Truly.” Another inch. It feels like a thousand. “But please believe this is a necessity. It is the way of our kind. When I claim you with my cock, you will be grateful to already have your first blood behind you.” 

 

Rey can’t bother with his words right now. Not when she’s being split open, each ridge and ripple of the engraved hilt feeling simultaneously like the best and worst thing that ever happened to her.

 

“Am-am I-”

 

“Yes,” he answers. “You draw my blood and I draw yours.”

 

The way of our people. That voice inside her tells it to be the truth. He must be cutting himself as well. Rey can almost picture it, his own blood from where the blade is cutting into his palm trailing down his pale wrist.

 

“Can you touch yourself for me, little pet? I would do it myself, but I’m rather out of hands.”

 

he’s still holding her up. Still fucking her with the hilt of a _karking dagger_. It hurts. There's no lie to that. Another inch pushes deep and Rey gasps.

 

Pain but so much pleasure laced through as well. She’s never done anything even a shadow of this when she would touch herself, and now it’s as if as new part of her body  has been awakened that longs for all of this and so much more beyond.

 

With shaky fingers she strokes  herself. The hilt pushes, just how much more of it can she take? But now that she’s helping herself, it’s better. Kylo laughs, his forehead pressed against her own. She’d been slick before but now she’s slicker still, the thickness inside her feeling more and  more welcome.

 

Finally, the curved metal of the cross guards presses against her outer lips. Rey squirms. It’s a strange feeling, something so deep and huge and hard all the way inside her.

 

“Kylo.”

 

Another kiss to her cheeks,  catching the  freshest of her tears.

 

“I like when you say my name like that, Rey.”

 

The hilt twists and Rey’s world spins along with it. She starts to rub herself in earnest, her hips rocking with a  rhythm that comes to her so naturally.

 

“So beautiful, little pet. I love to see you like this.”

 

The hilt slides out, leaving a desperate ache in its wake. Rey looks at him with a plea in her eyes, but her  captor's wicked smirk makes it clear: mercy will not be had  tonight.

 

And then the hilt slams back in. A deep, rough fuck. 

 

Ry’s scream comes with the next breath. It’s too much, too soon.

 

Kylo  clicks his tongue , giving her a quick kiss as she struggles to take in enough air.

 

“You’re doing so good, my darling,” he praises when he pulls back. “Touch yourself again. You’re in the safest of hands.”

 

Safe? Hardly. Rey’s heart feels like it’s about to pound right out of her chest.

 

But she complies, her fingers doing the work to make the next plunge of the dagger between her legs better than the last.

 

Kylo sets a slow but deep pace. It’s brutal. The best way to  describe it. The hilt is so hard and even though it’s warmed up to match her body, Rey can still feel every bump of it.

 

Then he changes then angle,  striking a spot on her upper wall that makes stars bloom in her eyes. Kylo chuckles, angle each push to rub that place with unceasing pressure.

 

“You look so beautiful as you come apart for me, little pet.”

 

_ Come _ indeed. Rey can feel her orgasm cresting over the horizon. She’s so close now, but she has no diea how it will feel to find her release with something like this  inside her.

 

“Trust me, Rey,” Kylo purrs, “this is only the beginning.”

 

The pace quickens and so do Rey’s fingers. She’s so slick now, each thrust of the hilt now making the most  embarrassing noises as it saws into her body.

 

Just a little more. Just a  _ little _ more.

 

“Say my name when you come.”

 

An inner shudder. The deepest thrust yet.

 

“ _Kylo_!”

 

Her orgasm hits her so hard it’s almost painful. Or maybe more than almost. Rey screams, her inner muscles clamping down with all their strength on hard, unyielding metal. Kylo keeps fucki n g her  throughout it, pushing the handle in then withdrawing it nearly all the wa y out in time with her inner contractions.

 

Rey shrieks again, howling like a banshee into the moonlight as a second wave of pleasure grips her. This time Kylo hol d s the dagger as deep as it can fit and holds it there, letting her grind her hips against it however she sees fit.

 

Rey buries her face into his neck, biting down into his coat’s  shoulder , and she feels his lips curve into a smile as she rides out her pleasure.

 

When her climax finally subsides, Rey falls bonelessly forward, letting him support her weight completely. Her pussy aches, twitches listlessly as he slides the handle o u t of her and drops it to the ground.

 

Then he crouches,  lifting her spread thighs over his  shoulders , and buries his face in her cunt.

 

It’s too much. Rey had thought that the dagger was hard to  handle , it’s nothing compared to the sweet agony of his tongue on her oversensitive flesh. 

 

Short, sharp little cries are all she can manage as he eats her out. She’s not forming words now, not even trying to say his name. Single, high-pitched syllables are all for her as she claws her hands into his hair to  e ither pull him away or hold him right where he is.

 

It’s his hum that does it. That brings her over again. Rey didn’t know her body  _ could _ climax this hard in such short succession. 

 

Two fingers push inside her aching cunt, giving her  inner muscles something to pulse against as she spends. Kylo’s full lips warp around her clit, drawing out wave after wave of  intense pleasure until Rey can’t stand it any longer.

 

“Please,” she gasps, her voice a broken whisper, “no more.”

 

The  fingers withdraw, Kylo takes one last messy slurp of her sopping cunt, and then he stands. Rey falls almost weightlessly into his arms. He kisses her forehead, then her lips. Their  chastest kiss yet.

 

“Come home with me, little pet. Say yes.”

 

She should be afraid. Terrified. What in all the hells has she just let happen?

 

“Kylo.”

 

“You know who I am.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’ve always known.”

 

She could almost  sleep right now, so bone-deep is her  exhaustion after being worked so hard.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” she admits.

 

And it’s true. Part of her- that voice in he  back of her head- has always been there. Somehow she knew without knowing that they would meet. They  were destined to.

 

“Rey.”

 

He rocks her, lightly  bumping her in his arms to keep her awake.

 

“Bebe?”

 

This time, his smile seems soft.

 

“He’s there. I like him. I think he likes me. I left him running circles and tearing up my curtains.”

 

It’s such a- the thought of the dark and forbidding stranger letting a little dog tear up his curtains- of him even  _ having _ curtains-

 

“Rey, say yes. One word.”

 

There are things she’d be leaving behind. Her friends. Her humble little home. Maybe she’ll see them again, one day, but you can’t fight destiny.

 

Rey nods. Whispers  _ yes _ .

 

Kylo’s hands wrap around her head, guiding her forehead back to his lips. 

 

Then the whole night goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm… I hope you enjoyed? Thanks for reading!  
> And if you want to say hi then feel free to shout out to me on tumblr at lost-inthesunlight or twitter at Ava_Avdal. Nice comments and concrit only please, we’re all just here to have fun and maybe get a little filthy debauched ;)


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